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noteworthy_fiction's review
challenging
funny
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
mvrms's review against another edition
challenging
informative
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
donato's review against another edition
5.0
Wow, what a whack to the head, what a jolt -- an electric shock -- to the brain, what an adventure inside the mind of modern man. Because these aren't just some so-called memoirs, or confessions, or a simple "Life of...", it's a portrait of all of us; it's our modern soul opened up and put on the examination table, the gory details on display for all to see.
Where to begin with a book that has almost everything? If we start with the title, we know that we're dealing with awareness, knowledge of oneself, conscience.[1] Zeno's conscience, which he has so wittingly and unwittingly set down for us. Actually, he's written it down for his psychiatrist who's asked him to "write his autobiography", as a means to a cure [2]. But Zeno decides psycho-analysis is for the birds (so to speak [3]) and abandons the project. So what we're reading are the unfinished memories of Zeno, published by his psychiatrist as "revenge".
Why revenge? In theory, the psychiatrist should want to keep the memories hidden, as they are fairly anti-psychiatry (and anti-doctor in general). But perhaps the good doctor sees what Zeno doesn't see: irony. This book just drips with irony; it's there on every page, in every sentence, in every word, in every space between every word, it's there on your hands after you're done reading and you just want to wash your hands of it. Because let's face it, Zeno is a bullshitter [4]. But he doesn't just bullshit his psychiatrist and those around him, he bullshits himself (and he doesn't even realize it).[5]
And where does this irony get us? As in Senility, Svevo has this way of showing the mechanism behind the psychology. What are we thinking when we do the stupid things we do? And we see it there on the page for the bullshit that it is. We're constantly bullshitting ourselves, just as Zeno does. "One last cigarette"; "I'm not really cheating on my wife if I feel bad about it"; in fact, our lies create a new reality.[6]
Zeno loves his sickness, it's a conviction![7] In fact, his psychological pain often causes him physical pain (to the point where he limps), which makes him feel alive, it's part of his identity. He loves his resolutions, which he never keeps, he loves that vicious cycle of making and breaking resolutions because it frees him of responsibility. He loves the light that is "goodwill", but he can't actually be good for unselfish reasons.
In the end World War I arrives and Zeno has nothing to do. But he realizes that we can't be cured because the sickness is too deep (it's at the roots [8]). What our sickness makes us do (civilization itself) is also what will be the end of us.
I don't want to spoil the last page, which I have to admit threw me for a loop, but it's almost as if Svevo took over from Zeno and dropped the bomb of real truth, predicting not only the 20th century but the 21st...
A couple final things (though as I said, there's so much here you could write entire books). The question of money, and the stock market in general, also plays a role (I'm reminded of Antonioni's "L'eclisse"; I wonder if he took inspiration from Zeno...) At one point, the stock market is compared to a person; and later Zeno is asked, "who educates better, the University or the Stock Market?" (page 297)
And also language: Zeno tries to excuse his bullshitting by saying that how could he possibly tell the truth in Italian, it not being the language of Trieste (Trieste wasn't even part of Italy at the time). Only in the dialect could he have told the truth!
UPDATE: How could I forget to mention that it's also pretty hilarious? (for example, Zeno's escape from the clinic, and where he talks about the fear of old age, which is the fear of death, which is the fear that his wife would then find a better replacement; post-death jealousy!)
[1] The English translation calls this the "Confessions of Zeno", but that only gets part of the story. Unfortunately, English "conscience" doesn't capture all the meanings of Italian "coscienza".
[2] Cure for what? A lot of things really, but in a nutshell: Inertia.
[3] The expression turns out to be ironic because according to Zeno, animals are the last beings who need psycho-analysis, as they are healthy, one with themselves and their bodies.
[4] In fact, a good title for the book might be "Diary of a Bullshitter"
[5] He bullshits so much that by the end, you're not sure what's "true" and what he's made up. Of course it doesn't matter because we're dealing with Literature (imagination = creation = truth).
[6] "...le sue parole avevano creato un mondo nuovo come tutte le parole non vere." (my translation: "...her words had created a new world, like all untrue words.") (page 331 of my edition)
[7] "La malattia, è una convinzione ed io nacqui con quella convinzione." (my translation: "Sickness is a conviction, and I was born with that conviction.") (page 11)
[8] "La vita attuale è inquinata alle radici." (my translation: "Life today is poisoned at the roots.") (page 364)
Where to begin with a book that has almost everything? If we start with the title, we know that we're dealing with awareness, knowledge of oneself, conscience.[1] Zeno's conscience, which he has so wittingly and unwittingly set down for us. Actually, he's written it down for his psychiatrist who's asked him to "write his autobiography", as a means to a cure [2]. But Zeno decides psycho-analysis is for the birds (so to speak [3]) and abandons the project. So what we're reading are the unfinished memories of Zeno, published by his psychiatrist as "revenge".
Why revenge? In theory, the psychiatrist should want to keep the memories hidden, as they are fairly anti-psychiatry (and anti-doctor in general). But perhaps the good doctor sees what Zeno doesn't see: irony. This book just drips with irony; it's there on every page, in every sentence, in every word, in every space between every word, it's there on your hands after you're done reading and you just want to wash your hands of it. Because let's face it, Zeno is a bullshitter [4]. But he doesn't just bullshit his psychiatrist and those around him, he bullshits himself (and he doesn't even realize it).[5]
And where does this irony get us? As in Senility, Svevo has this way of showing the mechanism behind the psychology. What are we thinking when we do the stupid things we do? And we see it there on the page for the bullshit that it is. We're constantly bullshitting ourselves, just as Zeno does. "One last cigarette"; "I'm not really cheating on my wife if I feel bad about it"; in fact, our lies create a new reality.[6]
Zeno loves his sickness, it's a conviction![7] In fact, his psychological pain often causes him physical pain (to the point where he limps), which makes him feel alive, it's part of his identity. He loves his resolutions, which he never keeps, he loves that vicious cycle of making and breaking resolutions because it frees him of responsibility. He loves the light that is "goodwill", but he can't actually be good for unselfish reasons.
In the end World War I arrives and Zeno has nothing to do. But he realizes that we can't be cured because the sickness is too deep (it's at the roots [8]). What our sickness makes us do (civilization itself) is also what will be the end of us.
I don't want to spoil the last page, which I have to admit threw me for a loop, but it's almost as if Svevo took over from Zeno and dropped the bomb of real truth, predicting not only the 20th century but the 21st...
A couple final things (though as I said, there's so much here you could write entire books). The question of money, and the stock market in general, also plays a role (I'm reminded of Antonioni's "L'eclisse"; I wonder if he took inspiration from Zeno...) At one point, the stock market is compared to a person; and later Zeno is asked, "who educates better, the University or the Stock Market?" (page 297)
And also language: Zeno tries to excuse his bullshitting by saying that how could he possibly tell the truth in Italian, it not being the language of Trieste (Trieste wasn't even part of Italy at the time). Only in the dialect could he have told the truth!
UPDATE: How could I forget to mention that it's also pretty hilarious? (for example, Zeno's escape from the clinic, and where he talks about the fear of old age, which is the fear of death, which is the fear that his wife would then find a better replacement; post-death jealousy!)
[1] The English translation calls this the "Confessions of Zeno", but that only gets part of the story. Unfortunately, English "conscience" doesn't capture all the meanings of Italian "coscienza".
[2] Cure for what? A lot of things really, but in a nutshell: Inertia.
[3] The expression turns out to be ironic because according to Zeno, animals are the last beings who need psycho-analysis, as they are healthy, one with themselves and their bodies.
[4] In fact, a good title for the book might be "Diary of a Bullshitter"
[5] He bullshits so much that by the end, you're not sure what's "true" and what he's made up. Of course it doesn't matter because we're dealing with Literature (imagination = creation = truth).
[6] "...le sue parole avevano creato un mondo nuovo come tutte le parole non vere." (my translation: "...her words had created a new world, like all untrue words.") (page 331 of my edition)
[7] "La malattia, è una convinzione ed io nacqui con quella convinzione." (my translation: "Sickness is a conviction, and I was born with that conviction.") (page 11)
[8] "La vita attuale è inquinata alle radici." (my translation: "Life today is poisoned at the roots.") (page 364)
lfagundes's review against another edition
3.0
this book is an excellent example of an unreliable narrator. you never know when this guy is being a douche, or when he's making an acurate assesment of a situation. makes it interesting to read. i felt over-analytical most of the time i was reading it. overall i'd say it is a pretty good depiction of human nature- how we are always thinking of ourselves; how we see ourselves and our actions in the best or most dramatic light; how we generally fall into the same patterns and habits over and over again.
algrenfan's review
2.0
He knew James Joyce. I laughed at times, skimmed at times and was glad to be done. Not really in my wheelhouse.
nzagalo's review against another edition
3.0
Enquanto lia "A Consciência de Zeno" (1923) de Italo Svevo lembrei-me por várias vezes de Thomas Bernhard, este último não sabe escrever sem dizer mal dos outros, o primeiro não sabe escrever sem se queixar e vitimizar. O problema agrava-se porque essa forma de escrever não é algo simplesmente ficcionado, mas antes está patente nas personalidades de ambos. Por isso dispenso. Os dois escrevem muitíssimo bem, e Svevo é não só imensamente poético como dono de uma capacidade rítmica quase perfeita. Mas dizerem que Svevo inventava aqui o narrador em primeira pessoa e não confiável modernista, parece-me um exagero, mais de 40 anos antes, na transição do romantismo para o realismo, já Machado de Assis nos dava isso em todo o seu esplendor com "Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas" (1881).
Alguns comparam Zeno a Dom Quixote, mas parecem-me bastante distantes. A loucura de Quixote é assumida, é frontal, enquanto em Zeno roça a seriedade. Podemos entender que Zeno apenas brinca, mas também podemos dizer que aquela é a personalidade real de Zeno. Mais, conhecendo um pouco mais sobre Svevo, nomeadamente por via da sua esposa, ele era neurótico, psicologicamente instável, e na maior parte do tempo completamente alheio à realidade. Ora isto é exatamente aquilo que Zeno é, por isso dizer-se que tudo aquilo é apenas ironia é apenas uma forma subtil de desculpar toda a alienação hipocondríaca de desprezo pelo outro, principalmente do sexo feminino, que trespassa toda a obra.
Do lado positivo, além da técnica, existem dois focos que me interessaram particularmente, as fortes críticas à psicanálise e à bolsa de valores, demonstrando uma certa presciência da parte de Svevo, uma vez que a psicanálise viria a ser desmascarada pela sua incapacidade de tratar as patologias da mente, e a bolsa viria a produzir uma das maiores crises económicas de sempre, poucos anos depois, em 1929.
Por outro lado, a colagem de Svevo a Proust, como "o Proust Italiano", também não cola para mim. Sim, a escrita é de grande qualidade, mas está imensamente distante do virtuosismo de Proust. Por outro, fico sem perceber propriamente de onde adviria o interesse apaixonado de James Joyce por Svevo. Até porque dizer que "Ulysses" segue "A Consciência de Zeno" é uma total descaracterização de ambas as obras. Sim, temos dois narradores/personagens principais neuróticos que nada têm para oferecer a quem os segue — Leopold Bloom e Zeno Cosini — mas a proximidade entre os textos termina aí.
Posso estar a ser demasiado duro com a obra, sinto isto em parte por todos os laudos que têm sido feitos ao livro e ao seu autor, mas também porque a boa escrita me faz sentir pena de chegar ao final com este sentimento. Posso ainda dizer que Svevo realiza uma excelente introdução ao mundo de Zeno no primeiro capítulo, e fecha também bastante bem com o último capítulo, mas esses dois capítulos não salvaram o livro, para mim.
Publicado no VI: https://virtual-illusion.blogspot.com/2019/10/o-ridiculo-de-zeno.html
Alguns comparam Zeno a Dom Quixote, mas parecem-me bastante distantes. A loucura de Quixote é assumida, é frontal, enquanto em Zeno roça a seriedade. Podemos entender que Zeno apenas brinca, mas também podemos dizer que aquela é a personalidade real de Zeno. Mais, conhecendo um pouco mais sobre Svevo, nomeadamente por via da sua esposa, ele era neurótico, psicologicamente instável, e na maior parte do tempo completamente alheio à realidade. Ora isto é exatamente aquilo que Zeno é, por isso dizer-se que tudo aquilo é apenas ironia é apenas uma forma subtil de desculpar toda a alienação hipocondríaca de desprezo pelo outro, principalmente do sexo feminino, que trespassa toda a obra.
Do lado positivo, além da técnica, existem dois focos que me interessaram particularmente, as fortes críticas à psicanálise e à bolsa de valores, demonstrando uma certa presciência da parte de Svevo, uma vez que a psicanálise viria a ser desmascarada pela sua incapacidade de tratar as patologias da mente, e a bolsa viria a produzir uma das maiores crises económicas de sempre, poucos anos depois, em 1929.
Por outro lado, a colagem de Svevo a Proust, como "o Proust Italiano", também não cola para mim. Sim, a escrita é de grande qualidade, mas está imensamente distante do virtuosismo de Proust. Por outro, fico sem perceber propriamente de onde adviria o interesse apaixonado de James Joyce por Svevo. Até porque dizer que "Ulysses" segue "A Consciência de Zeno" é uma total descaracterização de ambas as obras. Sim, temos dois narradores/personagens principais neuróticos que nada têm para oferecer a quem os segue — Leopold Bloom e Zeno Cosini — mas a proximidade entre os textos termina aí.
Posso estar a ser demasiado duro com a obra, sinto isto em parte por todos os laudos que têm sido feitos ao livro e ao seu autor, mas também porque a boa escrita me faz sentir pena de chegar ao final com este sentimento. Posso ainda dizer que Svevo realiza uma excelente introdução ao mundo de Zeno no primeiro capítulo, e fecha também bastante bem com o último capítulo, mas esses dois capítulos não salvaram o livro, para mim.
Publicado no VI: https://virtual-illusion.blogspot.com/2019/10/o-ridiculo-de-zeno.html
ilse's review
4.0
A Dead Honest Liar
Now Sunday arrived. I, who work so little, retained always a great respect for the holiday, which divides life into brief periods, making it more tolerable.
On his psychiatrist’s request, Zeno Cosini, a businessman from Trieste, describes six episodes in his life, self-analysing his actions, feelings and motives ostensibly dead honest. Zeno is a champion of good intentions and crooked reasoning. All his plans fail miserably: he doesn’t manage to stop smoking, when choosing among four sisters he marries just the one he doesn't want to marry, he loses his mistress by complicated lies, drives his business partner to despair, turns out to follow the wrong funeral procession... Zeno is an antihero, a schlemiel, an eccentric hypochondriac, but with his sublime self-mockery he condones his mistakes and weaknesses so disarmingly that I caught myself on almost every page on a lenient smile.
Egon Schiele, Harbor of Trieste, 1907
However it took me some time to attune to the rather slow pace of the novel, in the end I came to mostly enjoy Zeno’s tragicomic interior monologue which includes some satirical nods to Freud – and looking back on it, I still dream of visiting Trieste sometime.
Egon Schiele, Harbor of Trieste, 1908
Ofschoon ik bitter weinig werk heb ik toch altijd een grote eerbied behouden voor de rustdag, die het leven in kleine periodes onderverdeelt en het zodoende dragelijker maakt.
In opdracht van zijn psychiater beschrijft Zeno Cosini, zakenman uit Triëst, zes episoden uit zijn leven. Hij analyseert “goudeerlijk” zijn handelingen, gevoelens en motieven. Zeno is kampioen in goede voornemens en kromme redeneringen. Al zijn plannen mislukken jammerlijk: hij slaagt er niet in te stoppen met roken, kiest onder vier zussen net diegene tot vrouw die hij niet wil, verliest door gecompliceerde leugens zijn minnares, drijft zijn zakenpartner tot wanhoop, volgt de verkeerde begrafenisstoet… Zeno is een antiheld, een schlemiel met sublieme zelfspot, een excentrieke hypochonder, maar hij vergoelijkt zijn fouten en zwakheden zó ontwapenend, dat je jezelf bij zowat elke pagina op een toegeeflijke glimlach betrapt.
Een tragikomische monologue intérieur met een satirische knipoog naar Freud.
Now Sunday arrived. I, who work so little, retained always a great respect for the holiday, which divides life into brief periods, making it more tolerable.
On his psychiatrist’s request, Zeno Cosini, a businessman from Trieste, describes six episodes in his life, self-analysing his actions, feelings and motives ostensibly dead honest. Zeno is a champion of good intentions and crooked reasoning. All his plans fail miserably: he doesn’t manage to stop smoking, when choosing among four sisters he marries just the one he doesn't want to marry, he loses his mistress by complicated lies, drives his business partner to despair, turns out to follow the wrong funeral procession... Zeno is an antihero, a schlemiel, an eccentric hypochondriac, but with his sublime self-mockery he condones his mistakes and weaknesses so disarmingly that I caught myself on almost every page on a lenient smile.
Egon Schiele, Harbor of Trieste, 1907
However it took me some time to attune to the rather slow pace of the novel, in the end I came to mostly enjoy Zeno’s tragicomic interior monologue which includes some satirical nods to Freud – and looking back on it, I still dream of visiting Trieste sometime.
Egon Schiele, Harbor of Trieste, 1908
Ofschoon ik bitter weinig werk heb ik toch altijd een grote eerbied behouden voor de rustdag, die het leven in kleine periodes onderverdeelt en het zodoende dragelijker maakt.
In opdracht van zijn psychiater beschrijft Zeno Cosini, zakenman uit Triëst, zes episoden uit zijn leven. Hij analyseert “goudeerlijk” zijn handelingen, gevoelens en motieven. Zeno is kampioen in goede voornemens en kromme redeneringen. Al zijn plannen mislukken jammerlijk: hij slaagt er niet in te stoppen met roken, kiest onder vier zussen net diegene tot vrouw die hij niet wil, verliest door gecompliceerde leugens zijn minnares, drijft zijn zakenpartner tot wanhoop, volgt de verkeerde begrafenisstoet… Zeno is een antiheld, een schlemiel met sublieme zelfspot, een excentrieke hypochonder, maar hij vergoelijkt zijn fouten en zwakheden zó ontwapenend, dat je jezelf bij zowat elke pagina op een toegeeflijke glimlach betrapt.
Een tragikomische monologue intérieur met een satirische knipoog naar Freud.
m3lni3's review
3.0
Somebody lend this book to me when I attempted to quit smoking for the very first time. After reading the first chapter, I lit them up almost immediately again. Be prepared for the juiciest description of what a little cancer stick has to offer YOU.
I did finish it.
All I can say is that it offers a beautiful writing style but I almost wasn't able to finish it in its whole. It's filled to the brim with details, in an alarmingly manner. I have added a few adjectives to my vocabulary because of it though.
Not all too bad? Three stars.
I did finish it.
All I can say is that it offers a beautiful writing style but I almost wasn't able to finish it in its whole. It's filled to the brim with details, in an alarmingly manner. I have added a few adjectives to my vocabulary because of it though.
Not all too bad? Three stars.